Let Them Talk
by pgrabia
Summary: Songfic based on song "Let Them Talk" as sung by Hugh Laurie.  Revelations are the theme of the day for House and Wilson.  A piece of fluff to brighten your day.  Spoliers up to/incl. episode 8x14.  House/Wilson slash.


**Title: ****Let Them Talk **

**Author: pgrabia**

**Disclaimer: **House M.D. and its characters do not belong to me. Nor does the song 'Let Them Talk' and Hugh Laurie's sexy voice. I am only borrowing them for entertainment purposes only and I'm not making any money from this.

**Genre: **Romance/fluff; song-fic.

**Characters/Pairing(s): **G. House, J. Wilson/ House-Wilson slash.

**Word Count: **~1400

**Spoilers/Warnings: **General spoilers for all seasons up to present (Ep. 8x14)

**Rating: K+ (PG)**

**A/N: **An idea I had for House and Wilson at the end of the show's 8-year run. This is definitely fluffy, because I've been very down lately and needed a little pick me up.

_Let Them Talk._ Lyrics and music by Harry A Carlson, Lew Douglas, and Erwin King: Peermusic (UK) Ltd. As performed by Hugh Laurie on the album with the same name.

**Let Them Talk**

Wilson arrived back at his office after rounds and was surprised to see a toaster-sized package, wrapped in plain blue paper, sitting on his desk. It hadn't been there before he'd left so someone had dropped it off while he was gone. Since his office door had been locked, his personal assistant had to have put it there for him.

It wasn't his birthday, nor was it any typical holiday where one gave and received gifts. Smiling, he cautiously approached his desk. House could have been the one to put it there, having entered Wilson's office via their mutual balcony; it could be a prank, booby-trapped somehow. Then again, Wilson knew he could be simply paranoid. There was a small card on top of the package. He carefully removed it, waiting for an explosion of some kind. When nothing happened Wilson sighed and opened the card.

House's handwriting greeted him. So it _was_ from him. That made Wilson more curious, since House didn't believe in gifting. The message was short and simple.

_Wilson, this made me think of you. House. p.s.: Relax, it's not going to explode._

Wilson sighed, smiling a little. This reminded him of the gift he'd given House a few years back, the one his best friend had refused to open because he'd been afraid to know what Wilson truly thought about him. Throwing caution to the wind, Wilson picked up the parcel and unwrapped it. It was a plain cardboard box. He opened the box to find House's IPod. Another slip of paper was with it.

_Put in the ear buds and press play._

Wilson took the IPod and ear buds out of the box and did as instructed. A song began to play, piano only, and by the quality it sounded like something House had recorded himself; he was likely the one playing the piano. Wilson went around his desk and sat down. He was pleasantly surprised when vocals began; the voice was definitely House's. Wilson had always loved the way House sang. It gave him goosebumps. He sat back to listen.

_ "Just let them talk if they want to…talk don't bother me._

_I'm gonna keep on, 'til the whole wide world knows_

_ That I really love you, I really love you so…"_

Wilson's heart flipped in his chest and then dropped to his stomach where it did another line of tumbling. He couldn't believe this was happening. Could this mean—_did_ it mean—what he thought it did? Was House telling him that he loved him through this song? No, no that couldn't be it, he told himself, continuing to listen.

"_And let them whisper, for they know, no, what's between you and I._

_ I'm gonna keep on, I'm gonna keep on loving you…_

_ 'Til the day that I die._"

Wilson was so entranced that he didn't realize that he was smiling now, and not just a little bit. The more he listened, the more he became convinced that this really was a message from House to him.

"_They tried to break up our romance,_

_ They didn't stand a chance…_"

_They_, Wilson thought, as in his girlfriends and wives, Stacy for House and later, his disastrous relationship with Cuddy. There had also been Vogler and Tritter, and House's raging addiction to Vicodin. But it wasn't only those outside their friendship that had threatened their relationship over the years. Both House and he had avoided _those_ conversations, pulled back when it had seemed like they were coming to the point of revelation. Fear and denial had been their biggest enemies.

"_We have the kind of love that's so strong, _

_ We'll be together from now on._

_ They say that gossip comes from the devil's workshop,_

_ And only true love can make it stop…_"

Gossip. For years rumors had circulated around the hospital that he and House were lovers, explaining why House was able to alienate and drive away everyone _but_ Wilson. Wilson suspected that House, part of his unusual brand of humor, had started the rumors but could it have been, in fact, his best friend's way of telling him wordlessly what his true desire was for them? They had never been _just best friends_. There had always been more, a nearly fatal attraction, like they were two halves of the same doomed soul and neither of them could survive long apart from the other.

"_I'm gonna keep on, I'm gonna keep on loving you_

_ 'Til the day that I die!_

_ Oh they're envious of everything that we do_

_but I wanna say it's wonderful, when you love someone, _

_and that someone, and that someone really loves you…"_

Wilson really did love House. To his regret and shame he'd run away from it and lived in denial for far too long a time. He loved House for exactly who he was, with no illusions about him and no expectations of him ever changing. House was definitely a scratch and dent, but as Wilson's grandfather, who had restored antiques in his free time, had said many times when he was growing up that it was the imperfections that made something unique and special. He'd been right, right about antique furniture and right about people. Besides, Wilson was nicked and scarred up pretty badly himself.

House finished singing. When he'd played the last note, Wilson stopped the IPod, feeling both anxious and hopeful. He startled when a loud tapping came from his balcony door. House stood there, looking at him nervously before gesturing with his head for Wilson to join him on the balcony and then walking away to stand by the half-wall that lined the perimeter.

Wilson rose quickly from his desk, leaving the IPod behind. He stepped out onto the balcony into the warm, breezy spring afternoon and sauntered slowly to stand next to House. They both looked down over the parking lot four stories below, saying nothing for a while. Wilson glanced sideways and noticed that House looked like he felt sick from anxiety and was trying to hide it. Of course he was worried; he had no way of knowing how Wilson responded to the song, and the message.

Sighing softly, Wilson turned to face House.

"Look at me," he told the older man, his voice nearly carried away with the breeze. House turned his head and looked, his startling blue eyes having difficulty remaining fixed on Wilson's.

Gently taking House's shoulder, Wilson turned his friend so that his whole body was facing him.

"You know what?" he asked House in a murmur.

House shook his head, apparently not trusting himself to speak.

Wilson saw the vulnerability on showcase in those azure eyes and was nearly blown away by the trust and openness he saw there.

He shrugged, and smiled softly at House. "Me, too," he whispered.

House stared at him as if he couldn't believe he'd heard him right. He raised his eyebrows, looking for confirmation. Wilson laughed at how adorable he looked before closing the distance between them, placing his hand behind House's neck, and pulling him into a soft, tender kiss. House moaned softly in his throat, wrapping an arm around Wilson's waist and pulling him closer, until their bodies touched; he deepened the kiss and Wilson gladly responded, his free arm wrapping around House. House's free hand came up to cup Wilson's cheek lovingly.

When their lips parted to allow them to breathe, House rested his forehead against Wilson's and stared into his eyes. Nothing more was said because nothing more had to be, at least not for now.

House smiled—a warm, genuine smile that reached his eyes and matched the one on Wilson's face. He leaned in and took possession of Wilson's mouth, his tongue gently pressing it's way into his best friend's mouth to explore and caress. Wilson hummed happily, and in his head that song played again and again.

_I'm gonna keep on, gonna keep on loving you,_

'_Til the day that I die…_

_**~fin~**_


End file.
